


The Spark That Will Light the Fire

by kaulayau



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Pining, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 11:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13546143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaulayau/pseuds/kaulayau
Summary: You need a pilot.





	The Spark That Will Light the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> it’s February Ficlet Month!!!! 
> 
> (honestly, I have nothing specific planned, and my schedule is packed, but here am I nontheless. either way I am very excited XD)
> 
> this quick fic (ha that rhymes) answers the February first prompt: “huddling for warmth” 
> 
> (this is also vastly unedited. and therefore rough)
> 
> thanks for reading my dudes!

When he breathed, the clouds descended from the sky to his air in front of him, lingering, just for a second, until they had to fly back home again. Holiday winters were cold here. But to him, maybe they were colder.

No one else uses this bus stop anymore. 

“Um. Buddy, hey, hey, um,” said Poe, getting closer than he already was, nudging his elbow into Finn’s arm, his foot into Finn’s ankle. Fuck. “Um, like. You know. Like.”

Finn kicked back at him, a grin in his eyes, fingers wrapped around his thermos. Patient wasn’t normally a word to describe him, but that was what he was at that moment. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“You’re cool.” The words fell flat and Poe’s brain wanted to burst into a million tiny pieces. Why couldn’t he be a cloud? Why couldn’t he be a cloud right then and there? “Well, I mean, cold.”

“Oh, my God.” But Finn leaned in and laughed. “Kind of.” 

* * *

 This is where they met, at the beginning of the school year. Poe has been the only kid at this bus stop for a while — Jessika moved away in, like, seventh grade, and the Tico sisters bought a new house in fifth grade, and Ben’s always taken a different route, for some reason — no one seemed to want to stay long enough to listen to him — and — then _he_ showed up.

He has this _trusting_  about him, like Bee Bee, almost — this friendliness, this empathy. Or something. But right away, Poe knew he was — wait. What’s the word? What’s the word for it?

“Hi,” Poe said, waving. No, not waving. No, he doesn’t remember it that way.

And Finn — he didn’t know him at the time, right — said, “Hi,” back. Smiling.

“Um. What’s your name?” Basic, textbook question. Even dogs asked it  and were asked.

Then came an answer.

Poe didn’t hear it at first.

“What?”

He didn’t hear that time either.

“What?”

If only this guy hadn’t mumbled. Was he mumbling? Or did Poe just not hear?

“What?”

Poe noticed that Finn’s hair was cropped and he was smiling, kind of. He was kind of — nah. Nah, Poe decided not to make any judgements so early on.

Wait wait. The word the word. What is it? He doesn’t — he needs to know this word so he can tell —

“What?”

Did he say his name already, or was Poe just like? Like?

“ _What_?” And then there it was. “Finn. Finn? Is that what you said? I’m fucking deaf, I guess — you know what — Finn.” God fucking help him if that wasn’t his name. “I'm gonna call you Finn! That all right?” he should have stopped, so he stopped. 

What. Is. The. _Word_. The _word_.

“No — no —” Finn looked embarrassed — “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I — like it! I mean, yeah. Yeah, Finn. I like that. I like that.”

And Poe winked. As close to suave as he could ever get.

* * *

 That was his problem. Is his problem. Well. Like.

Don’t they know? Speech impediments are a bitch. Attention-deficit-hyperactivity whatever the fuck is a fucking bitch. It fucks with tons of kids.

“You’ve got your head in the clouds,” Leia always said. Says. “It’s all right. Sit down. You’re going to be just fine. Take a pill. Take a breather. I’m just scared you’ll fly away one of these days.”

* * *

 “Well, maybe I _wanna_ ,” he said, meaning it. 

“Wait, what?” asked Finn. 

Shit. “What? Oh.” Poe kicked Finn’s shoe. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You look like — that time Bee Bee Eight jumped into that pond.” He grinned all sideways, but seemed frozen. “You sure?”

“Sure.”

* * *

 The temperature dipped below freezing just before December. 

“I hope it’ll rain,” Poe told him, sticking his hand out into the air.

Finn had icicles hanging off of him. Or at least it felt that way. “I’ve never seen snow before.” 

* * *

 His jacket was so thin, like it had been handed down to him. Poe got that. But all of a sudden he felt kind of bad. 

“Don’t be,” said Finn. Shivering. 

* * *

 “Here.” A brown jacket, big and puffy and perfect. Almost like Bee Bee Eight. “It’s one of mine. So you know it’s clean. Just kidding. I mean. Kind of. It’s really nice because Leia got it for me and she’s also nice. But really fucking strict, you know? But nice. Anyway. Here.”

Finn took it. “Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“You're literally the best person I’ve ever met in my life.” And he put it on. Poe felt like a fucking hero.

Should they hug? Who hugs first? Does he hug first?

Nah. Nah, they didn’t hug.

* * *

 Fuck, why didn’t Poe hug him.

* * *

 Oh. Oh, he got it. He just got it, the _word_ — fuck, it’s gone. It’s gone. And he _just had it._

* * *

 “And then Phasma _fucking_ like, I don’t even — wait a second.”

Poe slouched over and put his elbows on his legs and his chin into his palm. “No, don’t stop.”

“I’m like. Uh. Here,” Finn said. And he stood, started taking off the jacket. Why was he taking off the jacket, it’s freezing. Oh wait. 

“That’s my jacket?”

Finn breathed the clouds. “Yeah, sorry about that, I really should’ve —”

“No no no. No.” Poe had his hands out. “Keep it. Yeah yeah, really. It suits you. It suits you real good trust me.”

* * *

 He still can’t think of the word.

* * *

Finn walked across the street draped something on Poe’s shoulders. It’s soft and white. Snow? No, it was fuzzy. A blanket. “What’s — this?”

“You gave me your jacket.” He sat next to Poe, like he normally did, like this wasn’t just the most thoughtful thing in the entire galaxy. 

“Finn,” Poe said, “You’re a good good man.”

* * *

 Was that the word? Good? No, no it wasn’t. _Fuck_.

* * *

 It snowed the next day. But they still fucking had school. 

Poe threw his backpack and pencils and all that shit on the ground and plopped down right next to Finn. “I’m pissed I’m pissed.”

Finn raised an eyebrow, unzipped his bag, removed the blanket from its contents. “Yeah, I can tell.”

So Poe jabbed him in the side. He’s ticklish there. 

* * *

 No, but really. The jacket looked good on Finn. So good.

* * *

 Fuck. Fuck, Bee Bee didn’t go outside for some reason — not that there’s anything wrong with tat, he’s perfect, but still —  Poe didn’t wake up on his alarm — it happens too often, and with poor timing — and on top of that they ran out of cereal and Han was home this time but didn’t want to go and get any even though it was like five and Leia got super fucking mad and Ben no wait he wanted to be called Kylo since like seventh grade he hadn’t come home from the night before and they didn’t know where to look for him and Bee Bee was all like — 

“Poe!” No, he didn’t say that. He can’t fucking talk. Oh, wait, that was Finn, never mind. “You’re alive!” 

Were they gonna hug? No? Not this time? No.

“Oh my God oh my God, so are you,” Poe said. 

“The bus is literally down the block, see — I thought you were fucking _dead_ , you’re always here before I am — what happened to you?”

“Aha-ha. Let me tell you let me just — I’m going to tell you fucking _everything_.”

* * *

 He didn’t show up one day. Poe kept on wondering. Worrying? Wondering.

* * *

 What’s the word? That’s not it. What is it?

* * *

 But then he came back soon enough. Thank God.

It was almost break, and snow covered the earth like thick pillows. Finn was quiet. He wasn’t like that. Not usually, anyway. Not unless there was a test in third period — but then he would be talking, forcing Poe to study for it. Poe felt ice and sleet build up in his throat, in his chest. Should he had asked? Was that the best thing to do? Oh Finn Finn Finn —

“I’m a foster kid,” he said, finally. “It’s all kind of fucked up, so.”

“Oh.” Poe didn’t really, like, doesn’t really kind of. He was. Poe wanted to. Why didn’t they hug? “Me too.” Then he remembered that not everyone had a dog.

* * *

Different.

That’s the word. The word! The fucking word! Poe can’t fucking believe he forgot the word that made everything turn on its axis, that made him take Bee Bee Eight in the first place, that made him want to touch the sky and break the atmosphere. Different.

* * *

“Poe?”

“This is he.”

A laugh. “... Are we friends?”

“What?” It’s obvious, isn’t it? The way he’s trying to play it? Oh. “Yeah, oh, my God, yeah, of course. Buddy, that’s what — that’s what buddy means. Of course we’re friends. Yeah. Not that I deserve it or — actually, scratch that scratch that. You know? Yeah.”

* * *

 Maybe Poe kind of. Just maybe, he feels. Like.

Nah. Nah, what are the odds?

* * *

Last day of school, and the year would have been finished.

“Do — you want a hug?” His words tripped over each other, eager to reach Finn. It was usually like this, he realized.

Finn had a flush all over him. “What?”

“Do you want a hug and then maybe you’ll get warm and then maybe we don’t need to share a blanket or a jacket or we can but this time it’s like _together_ and then maybe like I don’t know we can fucking cuddle or something I mean we’re like whatever but like — _whatever_ ,” said Poe. “Yeah.” Was he finished? “Merry Christmas,” he added.

Oh, God. He fucked it all up. Why did he have to say _Merry Christmas_? Completely unnecessary.

Fuck.

But Finn was smiling, bashful almost. “Sounds — sounds good to me.”

So. They did.

* * *

Different.

**Author's Note:**

> have a great February!


End file.
